The Lands Beyond
by KazraGirl
Summary: What lies behind Mount Doom? Who are the people that dwell there as Saurons slaves? Are they willing or unwilling? Takes place after RoTK. Aragorn may make an appearence towards the end. OC all the way.


Beyond the lands that are well known, beyond the lands of Mordor, lie other lands. These are unknown to most, but still people dwell there, living out their lives in peace and harmony.  
  
But then the Dark Lord rose again, and his dark shadow reached over the world, to dominate all lands. His armies swept out, conquering all that faced them as he consolidated his hold on the lands that lay behind Mordor.  
  
Thus it was with the four tribes of the winged folk. How they came into being is lost in the mists of time, but their allegiance to Manwe, the lord of the wind, who they call Sulatar still remains.  
  
From the moment that they began aware, they were divided into four tribes, Earth, Fire, Water and Air. From the Air Tribe came the leaders of the communities, considered to be closer to Manwe.  
  
But the war devastated them, reducing their numbers down dramatically. The remainder of the tribe were taken as slaves, chained and bound to the service of the Dark Lord. But some bought their freedom by serving the Dark Lord, carrying his messages.  
  
Times were dark. But then a rumour began to spread. Carried by those who had turned traitor, messages to the guards told of the rediscovery of the Ring. The work of the slaves increased as they laboured to draw the precious metals from beneath the earth, and the crops from in the earth.  
  
But rumours spread amongst the slaves, that a Ring Lord was arisen, coming to challenge the might of the Dark Lord.  
  
And a plan was starting to develop. Whispers passed between the slaves as they moved between their work and their huts. Illicit gatherings took place, and slowly, a plan began to develop.  
  
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Flare Ice winced as her feet touched the cold mud of the floor, feeling the substance squelch between her toes. Each morning was the same, but she never grew accustomed to the sensation.  
  
She shivered in the chill breeze that rippled through the gaps in the walls and the door.  
  
"Morning little one." And Flare smiled to hear the deep voice of her father. "Ready to rise and work another day for our glorious leader?" and his tone held the bite of sarcasm.  
  
"Don't let the overseers hear you talking like that father." Flare muttered as she moved over to where he stood, poking at the embers of the previous nights fire in an attempt to coax some life from them. She let out a soft curse as the iron band that clamped tight against her ankle chafed against the sores that it had already rubbed raw.  
  
Her father laughed humourlessly. "Oh, they already know. But until they find definite evidence, they'll leave me be."  
  
"That's only because they value your experience." Flare retorted tartly, concealing her fear for her father behind a front of irritation. But there was no fooling Spark Soil.  
  
"Don't worry about me little one. I'm not going to get caught that easily. None of us are. Be easy."  
  
A knock at the door broke their conversation. There was only one thing that that could signal. The approach of the overseers to start the workday off.  
  
Silently, Flare and Spark stepped to the door and out into the day.  
  
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The sun was barely pulsing on the horizon, and the sky was still dark as they emerged.  
  
Skeletal trees clawed with bare branches ahead of them, stretching in a line along the muddy dirt track that served as a road. Opposite the trees were the rude huts that held the remnants of the once proud Fire Tribe. To the west they could see the stone building that held the guards that made sure that the orders of the Dark Lord were carried out, and even further west could be seen the great Mountain.  
  
Flare shuddered and averted her eyes from there, for to stare too long was to invite disaster.  
  
Approaching at a military trot were the guards, a mixed company of dark swarthy men and orcs, all clad in black tabards emblazoned with the red Eye of Mordor that was the symbol of their master.  
  
"Stand to attention." Spark whispered, and all along the line of slaves Flare saw a perceptible shift. Heads looked at the ground meekly, shoulders slumped, all conveying the impression of humility and subjugation.  
  
Flare watched the ground, staring at the mud as they waited for the orders of the day. It was most likely to be the same as all the other days, work in the fields till long after the sun had set, and then a meal if the overseers decided that they had worked hard enough, before sleep, ready for the next day.  
  
"Right you lot." The leader of the group growled as he and his men took up stations, several stringing their bows and sticking several arrows, point down in the ground in front of them. "Preparing the earth for seeds."  
  
That was all the command that the slaves needed, and was most likely all the command that they were going to get.  
  
No tools were given, in case the slaves decided to use them as weapons against their overseers.  
  
Flare knelt on the muddy ground, feeling the cold seeping through the thin tunic that was her only covering. Her wingtips dragged on the ground, feathers drawing random patterns as her clawed fingertips dug into soil. And so began their work.  
  
The sun barely warmed the earth as it traversed on its path, shining own on the slaves that toiled beneath it under the watchful eyes of their guards. All movement was closely watched; to make sure that no attempts at escape was made.  
  
But that thought did not occur to any of the slaves. Why would they want to escape? Where could they go? To the east was nothing but more slaves and tilled land, more guards. The forces of Mordor now occupied the lands that were once theirs. And to the east was the stronghold of the Dark Lord. There was nowhere that they could escape to.  
  
But that did not mean that they would not try to escape in a different way. 


End file.
